


The Five-Wheeled Wagon

by CreativWit, Rose_SK



Series: Wit and Haven's Eskel Whump Dump [8]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bingo, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eskel Has Feelings (The Witcher), Eskel Has Self-Esteem Issues (The Witcher), Eskel Whump (The Witcher), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Geralt is a Good Brother™, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hurt Eskel (The Witcher), Insecure Eskel (The Witcher), Jealous Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert Has Feelings (The Witcher), Lambert is a Good Brother™, Light Descriptions of Self-Harm, Platonic Cuddling, Prompt Fill, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Lambert (The Witcher), Puppy Piles, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, The Writing Corner Bingo Event, Touch-Starved Eskel (The Witcher), Wolf Puppy Pile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativWit/pseuds/CreativWit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_SK/pseuds/Rose_SK
Summary: Wagons usually have four wheels. It makes sense that way. There really isn't a need for a fifth one, and if it's there, it's either a spare or another unnecessary part to perform a function the other wheels could do just fine on their own. A lot of people prefer to forego the fifth wheel on their carts. Maintaining them cost far too much for most farmers these days, and they didn't have much of a use.As he staggered into the stables to set Scorpion up for the rest of winter, Eskel never felt more like a fifth wheel.Prompt 4 for The Writing Corner Bingo Event: "Out of Place"
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: Wit and Haven's Eskel Whump Dump [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108274
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	The Five-Wheeled Wagon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rose_SK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_SK/gifts).



> Hello! So this is prompt 4 for The Writing Corner Bingo Event! The prompt for this one is "Out of Place." Keep in mind there are a lot of self-esteem issues here, and some light depictions of self-harm. The self-harm is entirely unintentional, but I still want to warn others just in case.
> 
> This was also co-authored by the lovely Haven! She helped me spitball this in Discord and really encouraged me to get this done. She's amazing, so go check out her Ao3: Rose_SK
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

Wagons usually have four wheels. It makes sense that way. There really isn't a need for a fifth one, and if it's there, it's either a spare or another unnecessary part to perform a function the other wheels could do just fine on their own. A lot of people prefer to forego the fifth wheel on their carts. Maintaining them cost far too much for most farmers these days, and they didn't have much of a use.

As he staggered into the stables to set Scorpion up for the rest of winter, Eskel never felt more like a fifth wheel.

Roach and Milo nickered in their stalls, stretching their heads forward in greeting as Eskel and Scorpion passed. Eskel reached out, brushing his fingers over their noses. This touch alone sent shivers up Eskel's arm, his hair standing up on end. He swallowed thickly, trying to shake off the sudden tingling sensation under his skin that only seemed to grow more prominent with every passing second. It'd been a long year, a lonely one. They all were. At least for Eskel, anyway.

With muscles tensed and skin itching like he'd worn a woolen cloak rather than one made of cotton twill, Eskel's eyes landed on two horses he wished he didn't see. It was a horrible thing to say - he knew this - but the feeling of dread and sorrow pooled into his stomach before he could think twice. He only knew of one way to rid that itching, burning feeling bubbling beneath his skin, but as he set his sights upon the horses belonging to Jaskier and Aiden, Eskel knew this would not be the year to relieve it.

He wanted to cry, felt the burning feeling crawling up his throat. He shook the emotion away. He couldn't afford to lose it like this, not when he still had to walk past everyone in the keep. Instead, he stabled Scorpion, and if he drew out the process, no one needed to know. It wasn't as if anyone greeted him at the main gate, which...hurt a lot more than he could ever explain.

Eskel closed his eyes, burying his face into Scorpion's neck as he fought back tears. He could only imagine what the others were doing right now. Probably in the library, stuffed full from dinner, a dinner they hadn't saved leftovers for since they likely didn't see him come up the Trail. Or maybe they did. Maybe they did see him walking up and decided that if they didn't care enough to greet him, then they didn't care enough to feed him, either.

The rumbling of his stomach told him he should eat, but all of his appetite had fled. A sick feeling replaced it, memories of the past year haunting him. The Path could be so lonely and cruel, almost sadistic in its own way. It taunted him with every turn he took, every tavern he ate in, every inn he slept in. Songs of the White Wolf and his bard dogged Eskel's every step, a whisper in his ears so constant, he wondered if it came from a person's mouth at all, if it wasn't just a thought lingering in the forefront of his mind. 

Tales of the Wolf and Cat followed him, too, even if it came about less than Geralt and Jaskier's stories. They all sounded so adventurous. People spoke about the wild tornado of Lambert and Aiden, how energetic they were, how they got rid of a single cockatrice with a cluster of bombs and a flurry of swords. Aiden and Lambert, Jaskier and Geralt. Both were duos of opposites yet life-long friendships. 

Eskel and...no one.

Eskel had no one. He used to think he had Geralt, but as they grew older and separated on the Path, he realized that friendship only lasted in the safety of Kaer Morhen. Even then, at least, he could hold Geralt when he returned home, place a kiss on his cheek while Geralt breathed in the scent of him. Eskel used to be able to do that with Lambert, too, except the younger wolf had been a bit less receptive of affection. Eskel always thought he could get through to him by way of hugs and constant displays of love. It seemed not, however. Eskel wasn't as good as a Cat witcher, wasn't as good as Aiden. Eskel wasn't as good as Jaskier, either. He wasn't as good as anyone, and he'd been replaced faster than he could blink.

A burning sensation laced through him, accompanied by the tingling of what felt like needles burrowing into his skin. Eskel wanted to claw away at himself, to dig and uncover the pain residing within him. He needed to head inside, but the mere thought of seeing his brothers curled up with their traveling companions made the pain sear, a broken gasp escaping him as he brought his arms around himself. 

He opened his eyes, bringing his teary gaze to his beloved stallion. Scorpion snorted, pushing his nose into Eskel's chest. Eskel brought one hand up, shaking as he stroked behind Scorpion's ears. 

"Good boy," Eskel whispered, petting his silent companion gently. "Always standing by me when I need you. Thank you."

Scorpion huffed, bringing his head to rest on Eskel's shoulder. Eskel laughed wetly, giving Scorpion's neck a few firm pats before stepping away. The stallion pulled away as well, turning to his filled feeder as Eskel exited the stall. He almost didn't want to leave. No, he _really_ didn't want to leave. Leaving meant entering the keep and subjecting himself to more than three months of this overwhelming pain beneath his skin, three months of pretending everything was fine when all Eskel wanted to do was break down and cry. Even worse, three months of watching the others receive all the love and care they could ever hope for, while Eskel remained sidelined and bore witness to it all.

It _hurt_. Dear Gods above, it hurt. It'd been so long since he'd been touched by a person. He loved Scorpion with all his heart, but there were things Eskel needed that Scorpion couldn't give. No...he was lying. He didn't need this. He only wanted it, only craved it. How unbecoming of a witcher, to want something. Desires served to lead people astray into a false sense of security. It made them complacent, and it weakened them. He just had to keep telling himself that.

But that couldn't be _true._ If it was, then his brothers would have fallen a long time ago. If anything, they became stronger than what they once were. The only one to have seemingly weakened was Eskel. Several times this year alone, Eskel nearly wound up dead, distracted by the insatiable urges crawling along his skin. He hoped to banish the feeling this winter - or, at least, keep it at bay - but judging by the presence of Jaskier and Aiden, he figured he wouldn't get the chance. If he couldn't satisfy this urge over winter, he didn't think he would survive the following year.

Somehow, that prospect seemed much more preferable as he stumbled through the front doors of Kaer Morhen. Laughter and talking echoed down the hallway from the library, rattling him as the voices all but shouted, _"They don't miss you. They don't realize you're gone. They don't even care that you've arrived."_ Eskel shut the door as quietly as he could behind him. No need to cause a scene and disturb them.

Truthfully, Eskel couldn't be more excited to know his brothers were still alive. Contrary to how he may feel right now, Eskel also loved Aiden and Jaskier just as much. They were kind and fun, good company to have around. The burning feeling didn't dissipate, though, leaving scorching-hot lines running up and down his arms, torso, and legs. Everywhere and anywhere hurt, itched, and stung. Eskel bit back a pitiful whine.

He _wanted._ Oh, did he _want._

He wanted so much. He wanted things he could no longer have, things he found himself foolish to believe he could obtain. Even if he could have it, how dare he ask? Who was he to separate his brothers from the people they were closest to? And, Gods, how that hurt to say, how it hurt to know he was no longer important to the ones he would throw himself on a blade for without hesitation. He could never ask it of them, even if he allowed himself to. Geralt and Lambert weren't like that, and if they were, it wasn't with him.

Too many times had he been rejected, pushed away, snapped at. _Too clingy, a leech, a parasite, too annoying, too dependent..._ It all meant the same thing. All had been said to him, and each time, they meant it. _Get away_ , his brothers would growl. _Get off me, stop hugging me, why are you here, leave me alone, I don't want you._

Every single word. A rope around his throat. An arrow to his chest. A dagger in his back. Now that he thought about it, why did he come back? Why did he subject himself to this? Was it too late to turn around, to take Scorpion from his stable and guide them right back down the Trail? If Scorpion hadn't looked so exhausted from the climb, Eskel might have done exactly that. Alas, his horse deserved rest, and, should the next day remain clear, Eskel would leave before dawn. None would be any the wiser.

Yes. That was the plan. He would dump his bags in his room. He wouldn't unpack like he normally did on the first night home. As much as he longed for a dip in the hot springs, he could survive without it. If he lasted this long with a raging fire in his veins when so much as the _wind_ brushed against his exposed skin, then he could survive without a few unnecessary comforts. 

For the briefest of moments, he found himself wondering if he should announce his presence. He should walk into the library, show that he lived, and head back upstairs. Maybe he could mention that he wasn't staying long. How would that play out, he wondered. Would they try to convince him to stay? Would they shrug him off and turn back to their desired company? Would his issues matter to them, or would he only be making a fool of himself?

He decided he'd rather not find out. Keeping his footsteps light and silent, just as he'd been trained to, Eskel slinked past the library, keeping to the shadows and leaving himself hidden. He kept his ears tuned into the conversation going on inside the room - tales of the year's hunts - and making sure no one mentioned his name. He would rather remain unseen and unrecognized. Being spotted trying to slip past didn't quite make the list of things he desired. 

Eskel opened the door to his room, mindful of the slight creak from its hinges. He sighed heavily, closing the door behind him and dumping his bags just off to the side of the frame. Ready and packed to go. By dawn tomorrow, in a few scarce hours, Eskel would brave the trek back down the Trail and hopefully make it to the inn in Ard Carraigh. From there, he would travel south and hope to find work that would last him the season. Would he return next year? That thought was better left for later. He could barely stand upright as of now.

All of his wavering energy fled, leaving him heavy and drained. He sagged onto his bed, dropping hard enough that he bounced slightly on the mattress. He closed his eyes and let himself sink into the softness of it. He wished he could spend these next few months sleeping here, letting himself unwind in the absolute safety of Kaer Morhen, but that was yet another want, and he already had far too many of those.

The comfort and relief didn't last long. Here, unharmed and free of trouble, his body decided to remind him of all he had left plaguing him. His skin burned like a wildfire in his veins, creeping through his limbs and embedding itself as a heaviness in his heart. It crushed him, sitting on his chest like the full weight of a giant. He struggled to breathe, to take in the slightest bits of air that would keep him alive. Tears once again pricked at the corner of his eyes, strangled gasps and pained sighs escaping him, no matter how much he tried to hold it in.

The itching worsened, and Eskel finally started to rake his nails along his forearms, leaving dark red lines against sun-kissed skin. His nails never grew very long, always chipped and ripped by aggressive hunting, but it did the job. Or it attempted to. The red gouges left behind only served to provide an extra layer of pain he couldn't withstand, combining with the torture brewing within him, one he could not reach nor satisfy. Eskel curled into himself on his side, tucking his knees close to his chest and wrapping his arms around his abdomen. His back left unbearably open, it burned and sizzled like ice in the blazing sun. He wished he could have something, _anything,_ to quell this agony. He couldn't imagine what, though.

His door suddenly swung open, nearly banging against his wall had his bags not been there to stop it. Eskel glanced up, blinking through tear-stained vision as Geralt and Lambert froze in the doorway. They stared at him, something akin to sadness and worry in their eyes. Eskel couldn't fathom the thought of them coming up here. Why would they? Jaskier and Aiden were downstairs, as well as Vesemir. All whom they could ever want sitting in the library. Naught but an unneeded fifth wheel resided in this room, making it nothing but a storage closet for things not worth looking for.

His brothers didn't seem to agree. Lambert pulled back the door slightly, craning his neck to see what it had banged against. When he saw the bags sitting on the floor, untouched and filled, his face crumbled, Geralt's following suit almost immediately after. They looked back at him, wide-eyed and tense.

Eskel knew he looked absolutely pitiful. A real sight to behold, he was. A large, scarred, hardened witcher in tears on his bed, holding himself to garner the only touch he had felt in the past nine months. He shut his eyes again, letting the pain of emotional and physical turmoil roll over him. He prepared himself to be teased, mocked. He awaited the barbed insults and sneering.

None of that ever came.

Instead, Eskel felt the bed dip down on either side of him, four arms reaching around his front and back. His body jolted at the touch, almost in disbelief that someone had bothered to give it attention, no matter how small. Eskel opened his eyes to find himself buried in Lambert's chest, his younger brother nudging Eskel's bent legs with his own to straighten them out. Eskel complied hesitatingly. What were they playing at?

A hand from behind ran its fingers down his spine, leaving him shivering and trembling. He hated the whine that broke free from his throat, a broken and sorrowful noise he felt resonating deep in his bones. A harsh swallow came from behind him, likely Geralt, and he felt the rumble in Lambert's chest as the youngest witcher muttered, 

"You're okay. We have you."

Eskel didn't trust his voice to remain steady. Overwhelming waves of guilt pushed past the pins and needles inside of him, realizing that if his brothers were here, then they were not with Aiden and Jaskier as they should be. He opened his mouth and tried to convince them to return.

"I'm fine," he replied, but his voice choked on his tears and sounded far too hoarse for even him.

A sigh from Geralt left a warm sensation on the back of his neck, and Eskel wrapped his arms around himself tighter. It was all too much, and, yet, not enough.

"No, you're not," Geralt argued, keeping his tone low and soft. Eskel nearly sobbed at the sound of his voice, already close from when Lambert spoke. He missed them. He missed them so much, but they weren't his to keep.

"I will be," Eskel said, unwilling to let himself submit to these unwarranted feelings. He couldn't. He didn't deserve the two men holding him.

"It's okay to ask for this, Eskel," Geralt murmured, almost begging. His hand continued to trail up and down Eskel's spine, creating long trails of relief in its wake. His other arm gripped Eskel's waist, thumb digging small circles into his hip.

Even if it was okay to ask for it, and Eskel knew it wasn't, he still couldn't have it. He didn't need it; he only wanted it. That couldn't happen. "...I don't need it."

"That's a lie," Lambert snapped, but he held no malice. Eskel nearly keened at the sensation of his hair parting, the strands shifting at the root to make way for Lambert's gentle fingers scratching lightly against his scalp. "Even if it wasn't, you don't have to need it, not if you _want_ it."

"I'm not supposed to want for anything," Eskel whispered, hating how his voice cracked on the edge of what dangerously sounded like the beginning of a sob. He couldn't do that, not over this. Not over something as _stupid_ and _childish_ as this. 

Lambert snorted lightly, his breath tickling the top of Eskel's head in a way that wouldn't normally have felt so monumental. "If that's the case, then Geralt and I failed miserably."

"Why wouldn't you be allowed to ask for this?" Geralt asked. His thumb stopped rubbing circles, only for him to start running his hand up and down Eskel's side. Eskel trembled at the pressure he applied along his skin.

"It's selfish," Eskel answered quietly, hands digging into his sides. Geralt passed his hand over, gently sliding his fingers underneath Eskel's and replacing Eskel's skin with his own hand. He squeezed carefully, gesturing for Eskel to continue. "It's selfish to ask you to ditch Jaskier and Aiden to spend time on me."

"That's bullshit if I ever heard it," Geralt huffed, sounding the slightest bit amused.

Lambert chuckled in agreement. "First of all, we're spending time _with_ you, not _on_ you. Second of all, I spend the entire year with that flea-infested alley cat. Getting a bit sick of him, if I'm being honest. Need a couple days away from him."

"And you have no idea how tiring it can get traveling with Jaskier," Geralt grumbled. "He complained the entire way up the mountain, even over the tiniest things. 'Geralt, I'm cold,' 'Geralt, this cloak is too warm,' 'Geralt, I need to bathe, but the lake is frozen over,' 'Geralt, you reek of horse.'"

At that, Eskel laughed a little, something he didn't think he'd indulged in for far too long now. It almost felt enlightening, a lift of a burden from his weary shoulders.

Lambert picked up on it, giving his own snickers as he added, "Don't get me started on Aiden. 'Lambert, stop being so gloomy all the time,' 'Lambert, pay attention to me,' 'Lambert, did you eat my jerky again?' I mean, seriously. I thought about throwing catmint on the ground and leaving him to roll in it while I headed up the mountain."

Geralt snorted before laughing against Eskel's back, sending a new warmth that didn't burn nearly as painful as the original hellfire beneath his skin did. In fact, that pain seemed to diminish, fleeing in the presence of his brothers' company. 

"Always whining, the two of them," Lambert mused, his own remnants of laughter still lingering.

"And my whining is better?" Eskel asked, voice soft as he started to dread the answer to his own stupid question.

Geralt's chuckles faded, making way for a stern tone as he said, "Your 'whining' is justified. You don't get the same pleasures we do out on the Path."

The steely edge to Geralt's voice cut into Eskel, ripping open a wound he tried to keep sealed shut. Now, he bled, revealing all his hurt and agony for his brothers to see in the form of tears streaking down his face. He tilted his head, burying his shame in Lambert's chest. His little brother let him, stroking his hair and massaging the back of his neck.

"It's so fucking lonely out there," Eskel sobbed, voice cracking and breaking like he was no older than a toddler. Embarrassment sunk its claws into him, but Geralt and Lambert were quick to beat it away.

"We know," Lambert murmured. "Trust us, we know."

Geralt tucked his face against Eskel's neck, planting a small kiss in the space between his throat and shoulder. "Life hasn't been fair to you. It never has. You can ask for this. We won't turn you away."

"But you _do,"_ Eskel argued, despite everything in his mind telling him to shut up, stop talking, hide away. He felt his brothers tense against him, but his mouth continued to vomit out all the words he wished he wouldn't say. "You turn me away," he choked out, "all the time."

"...you're right," Lambert sighed, breaking the few seconds of uncomfortable silence that settled over them. "We haven't been fair to you either. Thing is, we really want to change that because if anyone deserves this, it's you."

Eskel shook his head as best as he could from where Lambert held him tightly. "It's _childish_. I fight monsters several times my size and I break down over being _touched?"_

Geralt gave an amused huff. "Funnily enough, I used to do that, too. Before Jaskier. And you were always the one to hold me."

"You have no idea how much your bear hugs helped, Esk," Lambert scoffed as if slightly disbelieving. Eskel understood. Surely his hugs couldn't have helped that much. They were just hugs.

"Then," Geralt continued, a hint of a mournful tone in his words, "after I started bringing Jaskier and Lambert brought Aiden...you stopped."

Eskel swallowed thickly. "...I didn't want to cut in. If you had someone-"

"We're greedy," Lambert piped up, sounding all too proud of himself as he admitted what others likely would have considered a character flaw. "We want you, too."

Geralt hummed in agreement. "And it's okay to want something in return."

"I don't give to take," Eskel mumbled.

"Well, lately, you haven't been giving, so why don't you sit back and _take_ for a while?" Lambert suggested, pleased at the prospect of Eskel finally starting to surrender to their new displays of affection.

The two of them suddenly shifted. Geralt pulled away, peeling himself from Eskel's back. The cold rushed in, delving Eskel into body-wracking shivers that, for once in a very long time, had nothing to do with the creepy-crawly sensation beneath his skin. Geralt didn't leave him open for long, propping himself up on the headboard before gathering Eskel in his arms and pulling him to rest on Geralt's chest. Lambert squeezed himself next to Eskel, throwing his legs over his older brother's and wrapping his arms around Eskel's bulk. They essentially trapped him in a tight hug. Eskel jerked away, attempting to free himself from what he knew made his brothers so severely uncomfortable, but neither let him go. It wasn't until Eskel took a shuddering deep breath did he smell the undeniable sweet scent of happiness and contentment in the air. Could this...Could they actually be enjoying their time with him?

Geralt ran his fingertips down Eskel's spine again, the soothing motion forcing Eskel's muscles to relax. For someone who complained so often about the chill of Kaer Morhen, Lambert's body radiated its own fair share of heat, warming Eskel in more ways than just physically.

"We gotcha, Esk," Geralt soothed, speaking his quiet words into Eskel's hair.

"Tonight's all about you," Lambert agreed softly, dragging one hand down to squeeze Eskel's hip lightly.

Eskel simmered down, letting himself melt against Geralt, sagging into his brother's strong embrace. Geralt continued to brush his fingertips up and down, while Lambert busied himself with making sure he didn't miss any part of Eskel that still held lingering itches. Eskel's eyes fluttered, dangerously close to falling asleep amidst the loving smells rising from Geralt and Lambert, as well as finally understanding the relief of being touched and held. It'd been so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like to be treasured. It might have been longer than this past year, probably decades. 

So close to sleep, yet Eskel startled awake at the sound of Geralt's voice, shame rising in his chest at the unadulterated sadness and hurt laced in those words.

"Answer me one thing, though...why didn't you come to the library?"

Lambert made an inquisitive noise. "He's right. You just...snuck past. We wouldn't have known you were here if we hadn't caught the scent of you in the hall. Only reason we even got that far was because Geralt had gone to check if he could spot you on the Trail before it got too dark."

Eskel stayed silent for a moment, processing through that tidbit of information. They...checked? Or were going to? Had it all really been strokes of bad luck, missing each other by a couple of hours, minutes? Did they look for him all this time, only to catch him in a part of the Trail invisible by their spot in the keep? How silly would it have been of him, then, to be so caught up in the fact he hadn't been greeted when he first arrived.

"I..." Eskel chewed on the inside of his cheek, keeping his gaze firmly away from Lambert's and Geralt's. "I wasn't planning on staying long."

The touches stopped, and Eskel nearly whined at the loss of them. He shifted slightly out of discomfort, prompting Geralt to resume running his fingers up and down his spine, but it didn't hold the same fervor as before. Eskel swallowed thickly, his chest hurting again as he wondered if he screwed up once more.

"...what do you mean, you weren't staying long?" Lambert asked quietly, pushing back to force Eskel to look him in the eyes. Eskel wished he hadn't, the hurt and betrayal so evident in his youngest brother's face.

Eskel cleared his throat, shutting his eyes briefly to gather himself before looking at Lambert and admitting, "Dawn tomorrow, I would have gone back down the Trail."

The hurt and betrayal didn't dissipate at that truth. Instead, they only intensified, the wounded expression cutting Eskel deeper than he could have imagined. Eskel wanted to take back those words, to remove the sorrow carved into Lambert's face. There wasn't a single word he could say, though, that would have made this situation any better.

"Your bags..." Geralt muttered. "They were still packed. You didn't...you really would have just left. Without saying a word to us."

Eskel finally closed his eyes, starting to push himself away from Geralt. His brother refused to let him go. In fact, he only strengthened his hold, a spike of fear in his scent as Geralt nearly forced him back down. Lambert did the same, positioning his leg high enough on Eskel's hip so it couldn't be bucked off but could still keep Eskel down. Eskel immediately surrendered. He didn't want them to think he was attempting to flee, to make well on his previous escape plan. Truthfully, he didn't feel the urge to run anymore as he did then. Perhaps it was due to the absence of his skin hunger, or maybe because of how deep his brothers' words had finally settled into his heart. He didn't know, but he didn't feel compelled to change it either.

"I'm just a fifth wheel," he whispered, letting the words tumble out of his mouth without so much as a second thought. "Useless and unnecessary. Too much to care for and not enough benefit to warrant the cost."

Geralt growled, hands tightening their hold. Lambert followed suit.

Geralt huffed, and Eskel could feel him shake his head disbelievingly above him. "A fifth wheel helps to better turn the wagon, and we need you to help us turn, to steer us in the right direction. Without you, we'd be stuck on a one-way path, unable to turn and see all the sights we're missing. I don't know about you, but that seems worth the cost to me."

Lambert grunted his agreement before adding, "And even if you were too much to care for, all the priceless things are."

"I..." Eskel paused, the words suddenly catching in his throat as his doubts and his brothers' reassurances warred within him. A colossal event took place within his chest, a life-altering change as he let the words sink in. "Thank you," he breathed, new tears springing fresh in his eyes.

"You don't have to thank us," Geralt sighed. "You should have never thought that in the first place."

"If we're being honest," Lambert huffed, a hint of a laugh in his tone, "we're getting something out of this, too, so it's not as if this is entirely selfless."

Eskel couldn't help but crack a grin. "So tonight isn't all about me?" he teased, referencing Lambert's earlier sentiment.

"Course it is," he replied, sounding a bit more offended than Eskel thought he had any right being. "I'm just greedy."

Geralt groaned. "Ignore him, Eskel. He's just an asshole."

"What, you're gonna say you're not enjoying this?" Lambert demanded, raising his head to narrow his eyes and glare at Geralt.

"I am," Geralt admitted simply, "but I don't flaunt it like you do."

Eskel huffed out a laugh, his grin slowly blossoming into a small smile. His cheeks almost hurt despite how little he actually quirked his lips up, but after so long of feeling anything but happiness, he thought it was a pain worth bearing through. "You two are incorrigible."

"We are," Geralt said, a little too proud of himself.

Lambert harrumphed, tucking himself back into Eskel and picking up his soothing motions again. "I'm not gonna apologize for it."

Eskel didn't fight him on that, choosing instead to pick up his head and bury his face into Geralt's neck. Geralt hummed in response, the vibrations rumbling through his throat and chest. Eskel hummed in contentment. "This is nice," Eskel murmured, words starting to slur as the emotions of the past year started to simmer down.

"Mhm," Geralt assented, turning his face to bury his nose in Eskel's hair. "It is, isn't it?"

"Could stay here for-fucking-ever," Lambert yawned. "Let Aiden and Jaskier pick up the rest of our chores."

"Sounds like a plan," Geralt said. His voice had an exhausted edge to it as well, sounding just as tired as Eskel felt.

Eskel groaned behind closed lips, too worn out to bother drawing out the noise. "We can't do that."

Lambert snorted. "Shut up. Yes, we can."

Geralt tapped his fingers on Eskel's back before continuing to repeat his motions of tracing Eskel's spine. "Go to sleep, Esk," he murmured. "It's been a long year for you."

"And you?"

"We'll stay here," Lambert assured. "Probably end up falling asleep, too."

Somewhere in his sleep-addled brain, Eskel's insecurities rose up once more, prompting him to ask, "And Aiden and Jaskier?"

Geralt snickered. "Like we said before, they can entertain themselves."

"I've dealt with that damn Cat for nine months," Lambert grumbled. "He can survive without me for at _least_ nine hours."

"That's a long cuddling session..." Eskel slurred, far closer to slumber than he was to wakefulness. 

"For you, we'd stay here for days," Geralt teased, but an edge to his voice betrayed the truth hidden in the innocent taunt.

"I mean..." Lambert started, "I'll probably have to get up to eat-"

Geralt sighed, a resigned noise. "Lambert."

"Maybe stretch a little."

_"Lambert."_

"Most likely take a shi-"

_"Lambert!"_

"What?" Lambert asked innocently, but even with closed eyes, Eskel could imagine the cheeky grin plastered on their youngest brother's face.

"You didn't have to read that far into it," Geralt growled in exasperation.

"But am I wrong?"

"Just..." Geralt blew out a frustrated breath. "Shut the hell up and cuddle him. You're slacking off."

Lambert made an offended noise, squawking in protest. "I'm slacking off?"

"Yes. You're leaving this entire section of him uncovered."

"And what about you?! Your arms aren't even reaching all the way around him!"

Eskel let the sound of his brothers' bickering wash over him. He couldn't stop the smile on his face, didn't find a reason to want to. Any other day, he would have complained about his brothers arguing, would have been sad that they couldn't get along. But this was a different type of bickering, one without barbed insults and cutting remarks. It was an innocent, loving thing. That, combined with the sounds of two voices he could never get enough of, Eskel drifted off, lulled into sleep by nothing but the warm embrace of _home_ surrounding him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [changes (irrational)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755956) by [VoidDamned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidDamned/pseuds/VoidDamned)




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